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RTA - Testing Grounds
Transformers: 2005 - Fortress Maximus - Tuesday, July 31, 2012, 8:12 PM Autobot Mobile Shipyard (#10333Ten) A shipyard of this size is primarily comprised of four different facilities. The main shipyard itself where the building takes place. On the starboard side, the research and development lab occupies four decks and spans the entire length of the shipyard. Just underneath the research and development laboratory module is where the raw material processing and refinement factories, as well as the shipyard's power plant, are housed. The living quarters and mess halls are located in a circle-like module that is attached to the top-side of the shipyard. Contents: Scattershot(#3514) Perceptor(#6946) Bell UH-1 Iroquois (#475) Jump Tank (#8391) Bluestreak(#959) Cerebros(#9368) Artillery Range(#8579) Specter has arrived. A few months ago, this shipyard was stationed in orbit around a planet in the outer rims of known space. It's one of the many shipyards scattered around the galaxy out of sight of prying eyes. With the discovery of this resource rich asteroid field, the shipyard was quickly transferred to this region of space where it can harvest and construct ships at an exponentially quicker pace. However this isn't any ship that's being constructed at the moment. It's to be the first of a new class of ships, and with it usher in a new generation of advanced offensive and defensive systems along with it. The skeletal structure of a sleek ship can be seeing gradually taking a definite ship of its own when one looks out the transparisteel glass within the laboratory inside the shipyard. Even Fortress Maximus himself can be seen docked with the shipyard as well. Beyond that it's just the dense asteroid field off that fills the space in the distance. Cerebros is inside the laboratory at the moment, looking out the window and observing an Autobot shuttle arriving. Is that the shuttle carrying all the volunteers for this latest research and development project? Or perhaps some are already here? What he does know is that the volunteers are expected to assemble in this room shortly, and here he is waiting eagerly to greet them all. Scattershot leaps to the air and transforms into battlecruiser mode. Lasers! Missiles! Cannons! For better or worse, one of the passengers of the Autobot shuttle is General Franklin Cross, current commander of the EDC. He's sitting on a human-sized chair within, studying vehicle schematics on a tablet computer. He has said nary a word the entire journey. Autobot Battlecruiser appears on the horizon shortly after the Autobot shuttle, playing security detail for this particular excursion. <> Bell UH-1 Iroquois transforms into his Blades mode. Seated beside Franklin Cross is Specter, who has also said hardly anything the entire time. But that's usually expected out of the intel agent. Throughout the trip, he's cast a wayward optic at Cross' tablet.. but hasn't initiated any conversation. On that shuttle was a gunner. Since that battle on Alkor Zephyr, Bluestreak has been more silent as of late. He was since coaxed out of his more distant state by Sideswipe and Sunstreaker, but he was still more on edge than ever. He sits not too far off from Cross and Specter, although it is still rather alone for the gunner who normally seeks the company of others. Blades has spent the entire trip shining his blades, one by one, sitting off by himself, near one of the doors. He probably hasn't had much to say, but if he has said anything, it has probably been along the lines of complaining about 'nerd work'. Bored, the Protectobot demands, "Are we there yet? Or are we just gonna sit here forever enjoying the conversation?" Scattershot says, "Also, Ah hope you've got some drinks to serve up, because this crew seems about 2 clicks away from self deactivation." Perceptor is already on site, slaving away within the lab, despite the fact that he is only just managing to recover from his recent near-death experience on Alkor Zehpyr. As usual, his mind is racing with everything at once. Doubts about trusting Cross with the reverse-engineered weapon the EDC has created, guilt over Elita One's condition (he couldn't help but at least partially blame himself for that), and the work he is currently poring over, which happens to be a series of schematics for a cloaking device on the new ship. He is looking at ways to bend and reflect light around its physical form to hide it from sight as well as ways to obscure its energy signature from enemy sensors. An idea comes to him, and his posture changes slightly. Ah, the use of gravitons to manipulate time itself, potentially allowing the ship to literally travel along an axis that is completely invisible to any sort of detection whether it be the naked optic, scans, or radar. Of course, these sorts of things always ended up being much more difficult in practice than in theory... Cerebros says, "Welcome to the shipyard. The mess halls are open for anybody that needs replenishment from the trip, I'll see you all in the laboratory when your'e done." Bluestreak gets off the ship as soon as they land in the shipyard. Being all business, he heads straight to the labortory instead. It doesn't mean he doesn't look around the place as he heads over there, silent he may be- but he hasn't stopped being curious at all. Autobot Battlecruiser transforms as he nears the dock, touching down near the shuttle ramp to escort Franklin Cross to the lab. He tosses up a salute. "Sir. Trust the trip was comfortable." Scattershot unfolds into his hulk of a robot mode and lights an energon cigar he stole from Kup. The Autobot shuttle makes its final approach and eventually docks firmly against the docking hatch it had been designated for. Once the connection between shuttle and shipyard has been pressurized, the hatch slides open and an Autobot technician can be seen there to greet the passengers, "Glad you guys made it here without getting dented in the asteroid field. Cerebros and the others are waiting for you all in the laboratory." The technician waves a hand and gestures towards the direction of the laboratory, he waits until all the passengers have disembarked before guiding them to their destination. "Welcome to ground zero of our ambitious project, everyone." Cerebros smiles, and Galen's digitalized voice can be heard greeting the first batch of arrivals warmly. He gives a quick glance outside into the asteroid field, where stray asteroids are dispatched by patroling Autobot destroyers, "Glad you all made it here in one piece, and the trip uneventful. Even with our sophisticated navigational and defensive systems, this is about as far inside the field we can bring the shipyard without excess risk." He waits for everyone to get settled before explaining the rest. Blades stows his blades, unstraps, and rises from his seat. He does quickly duck over to the mess, partially to grab a drink, partially to try to get an idea of how the complex is laid out. Then Blades quickly catches up with the group at the laboratory, taking a sting position at the rear. Jump Tank rises once the ship has docked, stowing the tablet into a briefcase. No, Specter, there isn't anything on there that the Autobots don't already have, sorry. Anyway, Cross steps down the ramp, acknowledging the technician with a look, and... that's it. When Scattershot salutes him Cross actually stops, as if he wasn't expecting that. He regards the Technobot for a moment before returning the salute. "It was acceptable," he says evenly before following the technician. Once inside the lab, he allows Cerebros to begin his presentation, remaining quiet for now. Franklin Cross hops out of his jump tank! Franklin Cross rises once the ship has docked, stowing the tablet into a briefcase. No, Specter, there isn't anything on there that the Autobots don't already have, sorry. Anyway, Cross steps down the ramp, acknowledging the technician with a look, and... that's it. When Scattershot salutes him Cross actually stops, as if he wasn't expecting that. He regards the Technobot for a moment before returning the salute. "It was acceptable," he says evenly before following the technician. Once inside the lab, he allows Cerebros to begin his presentation, remaining quiet for now. Following along behind Cross, not that he was actively looking for info on the tablet.. more or less bored, Specter pads up to the side of Scattershot and gives him a respective nod of his chin. "Sir." he denotes, an air of netrality in his voice synth. "The trip was adequate." Turning, he takes a seat and waits for Cerebros to continue. Scattershot rolls his optics as he follows Cross to the faciulity entrance, stopping outside. <> He gives Specter a wink before the smaller Bot heads in. "Ah kept the AC pretty low." Perceptor is barely aware of the others' arrival, as he is completely absorbed in going over various options as far as energy-absorbent metamaterials that might also possibly absorb or deflect the visible portion of the electromagnetic spectrum. "Hmm..." he mutters to himself. Bluestreak soon finds himself among the crowd of Autobots there for the big unvailing. He spots Perceptor working away, which is actually a relief for him, even if he is concerned that the scientist should be working that hard after what happened. Then again- being sedentary wouldn't help either. So he continues to say nothing as he waits for Cerebros to talk as well. He watched as the new EDC Commander steps in. Keeping up with reports, he felt slightly wary, only because of what he understood about the weapon Cross made. Anyone who can do that... can they be trusted? Sideswipe has arrived. Cerebros casually eyes the gathered Autobots, that is until he notices Franklin Cross' presence. Hrm. That's unexpected, but both he and his Cybertronian partner mentally agrees that this isn't a bad thing either. A diplomat at heart, this could very well be an excellent opportunity to help ease any tensions from the recent incident with Motormaster. Finally Cerebros continues, "Now I'm sure you're all wondering why I had solicited help from all of you for a technical research project." The average sized Autobot taps a key on his forearm and turns around as the floor beside him parts ways to allow several control pods to be raised up from the openings, "Behold, one of the first multi-purpose weapons system that we've developed for the new ship. It's an ion-pulse cannon, its technology is derived from my own, but uprated and refined to be usable on starships." He walks over to Perceptor, and gives the scientist a pat on the shoulder to jog him out of his deep thoughts, "Thanks to Jetfire and Perceptor here, the prototype is complete but what we're missing is..." Cerebros gives Perceptor a smile and nods him towards the gathered audience, "...well I think Perceptor can explain this one." Perceptor jumps slightly when Cerebros pats him on the shoulder, looking slightly startled and frankly a bit awkward for an astrosecond as he looked up from his work. "Ah--yes. Thank you, Cerebros." He nods at the other mech, then stands up and turns to face the rest of the gathered Autobots and...human. "As we Cerebros mentioned, we have developed and implemented a new weapons system. We require your assistance in producing new targeting algorithms to supplement the system." He indicates the pods that have just emerged from the floor. "The data necessary for building the algorithms will be acquired from test discharges of the weapons utilizing these simulator pods." Sideswipe shifts a little as he listens and stands next to Bluestreak. Personally, he hasn't a prayer of even hitting the target. He sucks lugnuts when it comes to weapons. He's more of a up close and personal kind of fighter. "So.." Specter pipes up from the back, which is pretty unusual for him. Then again, this is a pretty unusual day in and of itself as well. "You merely want us to fire on those targets, couldn't you have done this easily yourself?" he poses the question, scratching his own chin over it. Blades looks distinctly unimpressed by the new weapons system, mostly because, well, it's a ranged system. He looks from Specter to Bluestreak... and then to Franklin Cross, and then he says, "Yeah, I'll just... leave this to you guys. Shooting's not really sporting." Of course you can trust Cross, Bluestreak! Not that he'd even bother trying to reassure you. Anyway, he seems a bit disappointed at the mention of simulator pods. "Simulator pods? Are we actually firing this weapon, or only doing so in a simulation? Because even the most accurate simulation will have flaws that will skew research data." He glances back at Blades. "War isn't about being sporting. It's about winning. EDC soldiers are trained to cover one another and concentrate fire on one Decepticon at a time until he goes down. It's not fair, but it works and minimizes our casualties." Sideswipe looks over at Cross, raising an optic ridge slightly but still says nothing as he looks back at Bluestreak, shifting to the other foot now. Normally he's the one with snappy comebacks but somethings got him a little on edge lately. Bluestreak looks at the weapons that risen up from the floor. Taking an interest in them, he looks at their design. The question that popped up in his processor was already asked by Specter from the back of the room. Hearing what Blades says, he then pipes up with something else. "Does this mean that you want those who are more used to range combat to test them then?" Looking at Sideswipe next to him, he wondered if the lambo was planning to opt out of this, since Blades already tried. It didn't escape him that Sideswipe was quieter than usual as well. Two normally chatty mechs not saying much? This day is unusual indeed. Cerebros awaits for the questions to be directed at him from the volunteers, and he first replies to Specter with all seriousness, "I should explain why we needed new targetting algorithms in the first place. The algorithms that we use right now has become far less effective as the Decepticons figure out how it works, either through salvage or accumulation of experience combating our ships, and make incorporate this knowledge in their automatic evasive system. In other words, the Decepticons are used to how our ships' targetting systems help set up our gunners' line of fire." He then smiles ever so slightly, "So basically we need to remodel our algorithms to incorporate your quirks and inefficiencies to make it easier to feint the Decepticons' current defensive systems." Franklin Cross asks a fair question and Cerebros answers promptly, "You're using simulator pods for this phase of the test." Before Cerebros can explain further though, things starts heating up between Franklin and Blades, prompting him to step in between the two. "Settle down" he then looks over to Blades, "I won't contribute to this bickering. You were called here because this project could use your expertise, now are you going to put your credit where you mouth is and show us how a professional does things, Blades?" Cerebros looks back to Bluestreak, "We're gathering combatants of all levels of proficiencies, Bluestreak. The important thing here is our ability to record your quirks that we can add to the system itself. We'd do this via the military datanet, but there are concerns over the data being intercepted by Decepticon intelligence. Algorithms for our weapon systems is something we'd want to keep under wraps for as long as possible, do you not think so?" {C}Blades makes an 'ugh' noise, glaring up at the stars. He throws back the drink he retrieved from the mess and mutters, "I'm Air Support, not a gunner," and he looks pointedly over at Bluestreak. Still, Blades walks over to the weird pods and pokes at the controls, his expression a mixtures of glum and derisive. "Very well." Specter replies to the answer, though looking around.. he can think of at least six other Autobot or EDC allied individuals who would make better contributions than those gathered. Sideswipe watches things between Blades and Cross, rolls his eyes and sighs, "Well you better be ready to record a lot of quirks with me. I can't hit the broad side of a space ship on a good day...." Franklin Cross folds his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed at Blades. "It's alright, Cerebros, he plainly wasn't programmed for protocol. Or... much of anything from the sound of it. Regardless, I will await my turn in the simulator." He watches Blades crawl into a pod, then gives Cerebros a pointed look. "I'm not impressed with the conduct of your team so far," Cross says. "A soldier should know better than to speak to an officer of an allied force in that manner." Bluestreak just watches Franklin warily, not thinking he is a riot at all. He actually thinks he is very dangerous. Not to mention unwise to get on the bad side of someone they know little about. When Cerebros answered him he nodded thoughtfully at that, conceding to the point. Seeing Blades poke around the controls, he decided to poke around with them himself, wanting to get a better feel for how these would work. Perceptor nods at Cerebros' explanation. "Yes, a system that is most well suited to its user is 143.4% more accurate and efficient." He glances at Sideswipe. "For example, if the algorithms are able to compensate for your poor accuracy it may increase your chances of striking the enemy." "And you're not programmed for /anything/. Got a point?" Blades calls out, though the pod likely muffles his words. He knows how he should behave. The question is if Blades cares. The answer is 'no'. This guy has the Autobots' ball bearings in a vice. If Cross wants to dish it out, he ought to expect to get it served right back to him. Blades thumbs over the controls, looking scornfully at them. Whatever, can't he just go stab the numbers? Sideswipe smriks, arms crossed in front of him, "Now this, I gotta see." Once everyone has entered a pod and appears to have adjusted to the controls, Perceptor moves over to a terminal. "Initiation protocols are active. Prepare yourselves." He says, giving the testers a heads-up. A low hum can be heard as the displays inside each pod light up with a view of space, perhaps somewhere on the fringes of the Sol system. A few astroseconds later and he activates the first simulated target, a Decepticon battle cruiser positioned approximately 50 metres away. He prepares the data procurement coding, then signals the testers. "Fire at will." Blades, without any real interest in what he's doing, takes his shots. This isn't his job, and while he doesn't even like his job, he doesn't like this, either. Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! KA BOOM!!! Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! BOOM!! Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! *THUD* Sideswipe slips into a pod and settles in, waiting for the HUD to com eup and the protocols to become active. He waits for the others to take their shots since he's not sure he wants to overwhelm their system with his epic failure... Franklin Cross, after seeing that there is enough pods for everyone, decides to settle into one adjusted for human size. He takes a moment to familiarize himself with the control systems before lining the cruiser up in his sights. He eyes the cruiser. Only 50 meters away? That's nothing in terms of distances in space! Ah, well... or maybe the idea is to strike a vital component? So he looks for such a component to attack before squeezing the trigger. Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! KAPOW!! Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! KA BOOM!!! Cerebros gives Sideswipe a pat on the shoulder in encouragement, "We can use all the data we gather here, just give it your best shot and act as you naturally would." Cerebros listens to Franklin Cross' comments before replying, "Blades can be hot headed, but his spark's in the right place." He narrows his optics, and his voice remains firm as he continues, "I'll discipline Blades for his behaviour when all of this is over. From one commander to another, I need you to man up, stop the provocations and assist us in the manner we've requested you to. " Having asserted himself as diplomatically as possible, Cerebros points a finger at Blades, "Blades, just starting showing us what you can do. Bicker later." After the Protectobot has had his round in the simulator pod, Cerebros leans over to examine the data results before letting out an impressed whistle, "Good numbers there, Blades. Job well done." He then gives Sideswipe and Franklin Cross a nod in acknowledgement, "Happy shooting." Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! SPLOOSH! Sideswipe snorts, "Oh, you don't want me acting as I naturally would." he jokes with Cerebros just as he closed himself into the pod. Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! KEeeeeeeeeeerrrBOOM!!! Franklin Cross grunts. Short. He begins fiddling with the controls, seeing if perhaps something wasn't calibrated correctly. Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! KAPOW!! Perceptor has absorbed himself with monitoring the data acquired from the test firing. He mutters some unintelligible things to himself. Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! *THUD* {C}Settling into his own pod, Specter gets a feel for the control stick (haha) and other calibrations he can adjust and finetune for his own style. Firing off three quick shots in succession, the Autobot ninja simply awaits data announcement from Cerebros. {C}Combat: Specter sets his defense level to Fearless. Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! THOOOM! {C}Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! KEeeeeeeeeeerrrBOOM!!! Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! KAKOOWWW!! {C}The Autobot scientists in the room all eagerly huddle around the computer terminals that's recording the targeting data that each of the volunteer is generating with the way they aim, their successes and flaws. Eventually the lead software developer looks up and gives Cerebros and Perceptor the thumbs up, prompting Cerebros to give Perceptor a nudge in response, "Looks like we're ready for the second round of testing. Hmm... think we're ready for 75 meters, Perceptor?" Perceptor nods. "Yes, executing the simulated target codes now." he confirms as he initiates the 75-metre protocols while running statistical analyses on the data they'd just acquired from the 50-metre targets. The cruisers disappear from the displays, to be replaced by another just like it, only 50% farther on the virtual firing range. "Fire at will." he signals them once again. Grinning, even though he has a full face plate blocking his mouth, Specter takes a little pride in his work. It's not often the albino Autobot makes it out amongst the others to socialize, plus.. SHOOTING AT THINGS! Making some minor changes to the system inside the pod, Specter reaims down the sights and takes another trio of shots. "Is the data proving to be sufficient, Cerebros?" he asks. Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! KAPOW!! Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! *BOOM* Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! KAKOOWWW!! Blades mentally tunes out Cerebros apologising for his behaviour and promising punishment on his head. He just eyes his numbers and everyone else's. Then Blades puts that out of his mind, too. He adjusts the controls almost absently, not really looking at what he's doing, operating more on the feel of the metal under his fingers. Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! KEeeeeeeeeeerrrBOOM!!! Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! KAPOW!! Sideswipe hmmmms and looks to his left and then his right. Well, at least it's something. He settles down a little more and takes a hold of the controls, then begins to try and line up for a few shots of his own, waiting a little until some of the others have gone. Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! KAPOW!! {C}Franklin Cross was slightly insulted by being told to man up by a machine of all things, but whatever. Faulty programming all around, it seems. Speaking of programming, after fiddling with his controls a little more--did he just make physical alterations to them?--Cross lines up the sights on the supposed warship and fires again. Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! *BOOM* Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! KAPOW!! Sideswipe watches as Cross takes aim and fires, then laughs out loud. Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! KAKOOWWW!! {C}Sideswipe turns his head a little and looks at where the General sits, "Wow. Remind me NEVER to take you into battle. You suck worse than I do when it comes to this." He grins and takes his turn. Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! SPLOOSH! Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! BOOM!! Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! SPLOOSH! Blades says, "Aw, Sideswipe. I didn't know you cared! See you at floor swabbing duty?" Talia McKinley says, ".. Do Ah even wanna ask what sorta trouble y'all got into this time?" Cerebros shoots Sideswipe a glare for the comments he just made before shaking his head and looking over to the direction of the lead software developer once more. What he finds is a bunch of enthusiastic scientists eagerly giving him the thumbs up. "Well, looks like we're ready for the third round. Let's mix things up a bit. We've had trouble with Seekers and Sweeps trying to get in close to mess up our targetting systems. Let's try something close this time. Hmm... 20 meters, perhaps, Perceptor?" Blades says, "Sorry, nothing as fun as it sounds." Blades grumbles, "At 20 meters, I'd get out and just stab them all." He punches the buttons angrily, venting his frustrations on the poor, innocent controls. Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! *BOOM* Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! *BOOM* Sideswipe says, "(there's just the sound of laughter)" {C}Artillery Range: Blades fires a shot! BOOM!! Perceptor nods at Cerebros again. "An excellent proposition, Cerebros." He inputted the target protocols once again, only this time he modified the targets' aesthetic values as well as distance, changing it a group of into Sweeps instead of Decepticon warships. He is curious to see how they do against multiple smaller targets at close range, instead of a larger, long-range target. He executes the program once again, and Sweeps begin pestering the viewscreens in the pods. Sideswipe rolls his optics a little, paying no attention to Cerebros. At 20 meters, he could just get out and punch them. It'd be easier and he'd do more damage. But...he's here to help the geeks test their systems...so that's what he'll do. He recalculates for the short distance now and waits for his turn to take shots, letting the others go first. Franklin Cross glares across at Sideswipe's pod. "These controls are not optimized," he says, and turns back to his controls, performing more tweaks. There's a spark or two coming from his pod as he makes more adjustments to his control systems, then finally is satisfied with the results before continuing. "Excellent. That should be better." Talia McKinley says, "So typical jocks in the locker room then. Gotcha." Franklin Cross hops into his jump tank! Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! *BOOM* Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! KEeeeeeeeeeerrrBOOM!!! Artillery Range: Franklin Cross fires a shot! KA BOOM!!! Sideswipe calls out, "Hey General! 20 meters should be right up your alley." He chuckles, unable to help himself. Hey, the thrill of 'battle' just kinda carries him away, so to speak. Blades says, "Eh, I'm just dishing out the heat. Not my fault other people get 'sensitive' and have 'feelings'." Turning to the side, Specter finally realizes they've been trying to shoot for the specified target.. not for length (more likely his player just realized that). Making some adjustments, the Autobot fires three more shots. "Hopefully this is helpful in your research." Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! BOOM!! Settling into his own pod, Bluestreak fires off his own shots at the simulation. Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! KA BOOM!!! Artillery Range: Bluestreak fires a shot! Artillery Range: Specter fires a shot! KEeeeeeeeeeerrrBOOM!!! KA BOOM!!! Artillery Range: Bluestreak fires a shot! *BOOM* Artillery Range: Bluestreak fires a shot! KAKOOWWW!! Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! KAKOOWWW!! Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! KA BOOM!!! Artillery Range: Sideswipe fires a shot! ] [ Artillery Range Logs ] 1. Jul 31 19:10 Blades 115.18 m (4 s) ~~ 30' 34.63m/s 2. Jul 31 19:10 Blades 44.25 m (1 s) ~~ 5' 31.63m/s 3. Jul 31 19:10 Blades 54.26 m (2 s) ~~ 6' 35.63m/s 4. Jul 31 19:15 Franklin Cross 21.65 m (2 s) ~~ 30' 14.62m/s 5. Jul 31 19:15 Franklin Cross 7.53 m (1 s) ~~ 40' 7.62m/s 6. Jul 31 19:16 Franklin Cross 13.6 m (1 s) ~~ 25' 11.62m/s 7. Jul 31 19:17 Sideswipe 90.44 m (4 s) ~~ 45' 28.82m/s 8. Jul 31 19:18 Sideswipe 83.68 m (5 s) ~~ 55' 28.82m/s 9. Jul 31 19:18 Sideswipe 87.55 m (4 s) ~~ 35' 28.82m/s 10. Jul 31 19:19 Specter 82.5 m (4 s) ~~ 40' 25.26m/s 11. Jul 31 19:19 Specter 105.99 m (6 s) ~~ 55' 31.26m/s 12. Jul 31 19:20 Specter 96.6 m (6 s) ~~ 60' 31.26m/s 13. Jul 31 19:33 Specter 63.27 m (5 s) ~~ 55' 23.26m/s 14. Jul 31 19:33 Specter 96.75 m (6 s) ~~ 57' 30.26m/s 15. Jul 31 19:33 Specter 57.97 m (6 s) ~~ 67' 26.26m/s 16. Jul 31 19:34 Blades 86.36 m (3 s) ~~ 19.5' 33.63m/s 17. Jul 31 19:34 Blades 63.05 m (2 s) ~~ 18' 28.63m/s 18. Jul 31 19:34 Blades 64.84 m (2 s) ~~ 19' 28.63m/s 19. Jul 31 19:36 Franklin Cross 14.96 m (2 s) ~~ 50' 11.62m/s 20. Jul 31 19:37 Franklin Cross 4.39 m (2 s) ~~ 70' 7.62m/s 21. Jul 31 19:37 Franklin Cross 19.89 m (3 s) ~~ 60' 14.62m/s 22. Jul 31 19:38 Sideswipe 89.32 m (5 s) ~~ 55' 29.82m/s 23. Jul 31 19:39 Sideswipe 47.02 m (5 s) ~~ 65' 23.82m/s 24. Jul 31 19:39 Sideswipe 102.22 m (4 s) ~~ 40' 30.82m/s 25. Jul 31 19:46 Blades 42.72 m (1 s) ~~ 2.25' 34.63m/s 26. Jul 31 19:47 Blades 35.28 m (1 s) ~~ 0.5' 31.63m/s 27. Jul 31 19:47 Blades 39.82 m (1 s) ~~ 0' 36.63m/s 28. Jul 31 19:51 Franklin Cross 71.72 m (2 s) ~~ 20' 31.97m/s 29. Jul 31 19:51 Franklin Cross 37.4 m (1 s) ~~ 10' 28.97m/s 30. Jul 31 19:51 Franklin Cross 33.29 m (1 s) ~~ 5' 33.97m/s 31. Jul 31 19:52 Specter 77.31 m (3 s) ~~ 25' 25.26m/s 32. Jul 31 19:53 Specter 67.98 m (3 s) ~~ 15' 25.26m/s 33. Jul 31 19:53 Bluestreak 117.89 m (3 s) ~~ 20' 39.67m/s 34. Jul 31 19:53 Specter 54.1 m (2 s) ~~ 5' 24.26m/s 35. Jul 31 19:53 Bluestreak 186.34 m (5 s) ~~ 30' 44.67m/s 36. Jul 31 19:53 Bluestreak 149.56 m (5 s) ~~ 40' 37.67m/s 37. Jul 31 19:53 Sideswipe 30.38 m (1 s) ~~ 5' 22.82m/s 38. Jul 31 19:53 Sideswipe 31.22 m (1 s) ~~ 1' 26.82m/s 39. Jul 31 19:53 Sideswipe 24.33 m (1 s) ~~ 0' 21.82m/s [ 39 shots (time sort) ] *THUD* Sideswipe grins like a devil as so far, he's the one that's gotten the closest to the 20 meters. "Stick that in your ear Streaker..." Blades admires Sideswipe's shooting with a heckling call of, "Sideswipe, my bot! - lemme guess you dozed off and hit the controls with your forehead?" Sideswipe says, "Dozed off my aft! I practically nailed that one! What were you aiming for? The next galaxy?" Blades says, "Your factory, which is about as big as the next galaxy, so I can see how you'd make that mistake." Spindrift says, "That don't make any sen -- oh wait, Ah get it." Spindrift is still really horrible at trash talk Blades says, "Your /face/ doesn't make sense." Sideswipe says, "Say that to me sometime when we're in the training room...I'll make you eat those words with coolant." Blades says, "It'll be your coolant, and gladly!" Perceptor is fascinated by Sideswipe's success. "It would appear I was correct in predicting that the system would effectively compensate for Sideswipe's poor accuracy, granting him a higher probability of successfully striking the target." Or perhaps he is better at hitting multiple smaller targets as opposed to a single, large one. "Hmm.." he says as he scrolls through the volumes of data being created by the simulation and a multitude of other, similar musings run through his processors. Spindrift says, "I reckon it's true what they say after all." Perceptor is finding the banter rather irritating. Sideswipe thinks Percy can kiss his aft too..and doesn't care. "And what would that be Spindrift? What do they say?" Spindrift says, "Something about kettles calling pots black. I dunno, humans come up with weird sayings." The simulated enemies eventually explodes in all their simulated glory, and along with it the data that were collected by each of the participants are funneled into the databases. Eager scientists are already combing through the data, discussing with each other the wealth of information they've just been given. Eventually they reach a consensus and whispers their decision to the lead scientist, who soon raises his right hand and turns it into an "OK" sign, "Wow, we can really tighten up our defensive turrets' effectiveness with these new algorithms! We've got all the data we need for now." Cerebros clasps his hands together in approval, "Fantastic. I'd like to thank you all for donating your time to assisting us on this research project." He gives each of the participants a pleased look, "What you've all done here will go a long way to saving lives." Blades says, "Kettles and pots are the worst alternate modes ever." Blades says, "Function: Soup Maker. What kind of life is that?" Talia McKinley says, "Full of noodles prob'ly" Blades says, "Noodles. I don't even know what the slag that is. Some kind of deadly disease?" Perceptor says, "....'noodles'?" Blades says, "Yeah, 'noodles'. How long does it take to die if you get infected with noodles, doc?" Hardhead says, "The Doc has other things to think about." Ultra Magnus says, "Autobots, why are you discussing 'noodles'?" Perceptor says, "...I am unfamiliar with the term, therefore I am afraid I cannot provide accurate information." Jump Tank frowns. Honestly he feels like the robots set him up so that they could jeer at him. Well, one insult deserves another, so he leaves his pod as it is, in its weird, highly modified state. It doesn't look anything like it used to, now. He ponders asking for the research data, but decides not to. They wouldn't use it anyway. Franklin Cross hops out of his jump tank! Hardhead says, "Pretty sure they don't melt Armor, Perceptor. There are an organic food." Perceptor says, "I see." Sideswipe climbs out of the pod, apparently occupied with chattering over another mode of communication, looking at Blades, then at Bluestreak. Finally he smiles 'sweetly' down at the human General. "No hard feelings? We all have to find ways of dealing with 'war' and something like this is icing on the cake to have a little down time fun." "Mhm, yes. Thank you for your time and effort in assisting us with the research." Perceptor mutters, barely audible. It seemed Cerebros had handled the whole appreciation thing well enough, anyway, and he has better things to do than deal with formalities. Such as discuss his thoughts on enhancing the new ship's stealth capabilities with some of the other scientists and technicians. Exiting the pod, Specter simply bows before all the other participants and takes a place among the back. Blades looks at his stats again and is just a bit disgusted with himself. He does not /like/ shooting things. He shouldn't be this good at it! But Blades is a professional, he supposes, even if he hasn't been acting like it. Eagerly, he hops out of his pod. Blades heads off to explore the rest of the compound - Cerebros can come find and punish him later. Bluestreak climbs out of the pod as well. It was pretty simple overall, although the banter over the commlink amused him. He wasn't jeering at Cross though, oh no. He is watching the EDC commander carefully. Standing where Sideswipe is, he smiles cordially at Cerebros. "Thanks for letting us test it out." Franklin Cross just gives Sideswipe a look. A cold fish, this guy is. Cerebros shoots Sideswipe a glare, but makes his feelings on the matter more certain by approaching the Autobot and putting a hand on Sideswipe's shoulder, "Since you're enjoying this so much, I'll assign you to some more extracurricular activities. Cargo unloading duty. 08:00 hours tomorrow. Don't be late." As usual, Fortress Maximus isn't the one to run his crew as air tight as other Autobot commanders might, but most of his regular subordinates have come to know that the big guy knows when he needs to put his feet down and stop the tomfoolery. He shoots the other two Autobots a glance, looking for any more hints of provocation before he winds down once more, "Alright, rest up now. The mess hall is open at all times, feel free to use the facilities as you see fit. You're all dismissed." Once all is said and done, Cerebros puts a hand on Bluestreak's shoulder, "Likewise. You've all done much to advance our progress here." Perceptor suddenly remembers something. He looks up as Cross glances at Sideswipe. "Mr. Cross, I presume? You must be the new commander of Earth Defense Command. I don't believe we have been formally introduced." he says politely, although given what he's heard about the human, he is actually rather suspicious of him. Sideswipe blinks at the order that he's to report for unloading duty. Frowning he turns and walks off, shooting Bluestreak a silently look. Franklin Cross had been about to return to the shuttle, but Perceptor stops him. "And I assume you're Perceptor, Autobot scientist," he says, as if he hadn't gone over the dossiers on known Autobots a million times already. "The simulation was difficult to work with. You may have to run more tests to achieve the results you desire," he says. Perceptor nods. "Yes, that is correct." He says in response to Cross' assumption on his identity. "I apologize if you found the simulation...difficult to operate. The prototype does not have many configurations conducive to human operation." He pauses, then quickly adds, "However, I assure you this circumstance will be ameliorated as effectively as possible..." Bluestreak looks at Sideswipe when the look is shot his way, then looks at the conversation between Cross and Perceptor. He wonders if ANYONE is feeling as suspicious of Cross as he is. Perceptor then moves on. "Also, I have had the intention of speaking with you regarding the weapon you reverse-engineered from the outpost on Mars. I request that I am allowed a more...-thorough- examanination of the prototype itself, as well as any pertinent research data the EDC has on record." Franklin Cross replies, "I'm afraid that isn't possible. We have several research projects in the works we'd be glad to share, but this can't be one of them. Our concern is that if you were to develop your own prototypes, or develop a countermeasure to the weapon, the Decepticons may obtain it for their own purposes, either through theft or by examining the wreckage of a destroyed Autobot. So, at this time we're going to have to keep this to ourselves. My apologies." From the way he's looking up at Perceptor one might get the impression he's speaking to him like he's just a computer terminal with a voice activated interface. Bluestreak then pipes up, addressing Cross. "Are you saying that you don't trust us then? We work with the EDC often enough, they help us as much as we help them. We work together, and our security is one of the best." The gunner told him with pride for his own side. Franklin Cross shakes his head at Bluestreak. "Trust isn't the issue. Security is. And we absolutely can't allow this weapon to fall into Decepticon hands. It's our best shot of beating them, I'm sure of it." Perceptor arches an optic ridge at him. "Why, that's strange. I was just about to make the same argument. In fact, I believe the most effective fortification for safeguarding the device would be Autobot City itself." He didn't understand how this human could possibly think that the Decepticons would have an easier time stealing the weapon from the Autobots than they would from humans. In fact, it seemed counterintuitive. "Perhaps your kind have been allied with Cybertronians for so long that you have forgotten the discrepancy in technological capability between your civilization and ours." In other words, according to him, human technology was rather primitive in comparison. The only reason they had managed to get as far as they did was because of their alliance with the Autobots. Bluestreak could not have been prouder for the response that Perceptor gave Cross, even though the words were much more fancier. "You also seem to overlook the fact that we have been fighting the Cons for MUCH longer. We know our enemies pretty well, that is why we built Autobot City with the best fortifications we have. That is why all our bases are tightly secured." Franklin Cross doesn't appear to be swayed by Perceptor's argument. "That technological gap is eroding more quickly than you think. In fact, I am certain that before long, perhaps even within the century, we will surpass you. As for our own security, leave that to us. All of our prototypes are equipped with self-destruct devices to prevent their capture, and the only schematics that exist reside..." He points at his own head. "...right here. There are no computer files the Decepticons can hack to access my weapon's schematics. And with... respect, Bluestreak, I know you've been fighting the Decepticons for millions of years, and I have to say I have no intention of following suit. Besides, what would you do with this weapon? This is not a device meant to subdue Decepticons, but to completely obliterate them. Do you really think either of you has it in you to fire this weapon at a Decepticon until they are nothing but dust?" Bluestreak was about to say "yes", but then he looked at Cross more warily. "So, you can do this to the Decepticons. Does this mean you have something else in mind as well?" Perceptor pfffs to himself. What an ignorant fool this human was. He could hardly believe his audio receptors. "You cannot possibly even -begin- to fathom how much more experience we have beyond what your young civilization knows. As such, I do not expect you to attempt it." As it was said, the more you know, the more you know you -don't- know, and the less you know, the more you -think- you know. It was all too true. But no matter. If the man wouldn't give him the information he needed willingly, then he would get it some -other- way. Franklin Cross says to Bluestreak, "Do you mean do we plan on using it on the Autobots? No more than you plan on attacking us, I am sure. You'll just have to trust us as your allies." Back to Perceptor: "You'd be surprised how much we've learned in a short period of time. Good day." He leaves for the shuttle.